, 1887-11-30
A POET AT HOME.
VISITING JOAQUIN MILLER IN HIS
MOUNTAIN CABIN.

Lying in California at an Altitude of
Up Poetry-waItIng for His Time to
Come.
At Oakland l visited Joaquin Miller.
known as the Poet of the Sierras, a man
of unquestionable poetic apprehension and
frequent poetic genius, who might have
been. with education, the best poet now
extant in our country. Lacking original
education he gives vent to surprises, and
sometimes mistakes strong language for
the voice of art. Bret Harte has written
the best poems of any Californian, for he
seems to have been an exploring, reading
man. Miller, however, has had a more
~consonant life with his romantic writings
than either or Harte, the other
two well known coasters. When Clemens
lived out here he was generally hard up
and being fond of money he was cor
~respondingly saturnine. He has cured
himself bravely Of ~impecuniosity, but
Bret Harte, as Joaquin Miller said to me,
will some day starve If he stays in London
and tries to live upon mere literature,
which is no profession in our day.
1t is a curious thing to see Joaquin
Miller, living here at an altitude of 700
feet above the sea, on a yet naked noun
tain, digging with his own hands cracks
In the black mold and among the stones
to procure drinking water, which trickles
all around his water shed and promises to
turn his land into an oasis in the skies.
With his own hands he erected the stone
steps which lead up to his door. In this
operation it is said that ne had a hem
orrhage of the lungs, and this, added to
his labors to finish a Scriptural poem,
gave him n rather old and worn look
when saw him, and he limped besides
from some wound received in his body in
Oregon, where he was one of the lynch
law men, yet ultimately a judge. He has
a little house in the cleft of the noun
tains, made of redwood, about ten or
twelve feet high and perhaps thirty feet
long. 1t has just one room, with alcove
beds for himself and his mother, who is q
fine old woman, originally from Liberty,
Ind. She went out to Oregon somewhere
about 1852, and there had three sons. of
whom she says that two were men of
more ability than the celebrated poet of
the Sierras. Miller says the same about
his brothers. They and his father are de-
ceased. Miller is not an affected man,
but one who really represents in himself
most of the evidences of extreme border
mountain life.
HIS VARIOUS EXPERIENCES.
He has lived among the Indians, has
been a favorite in the drawing rooms Of
London, was at one time something of a
success in Wall street, and he astonished
Washington by building a log cabin with
in less than a mile of the presidents
house. This cabin he still possesses, but
the land he held in Washington has been
sold at a considerable advance. He took
the money and bought property III Oak
land, which he has turned over to adj
vantage, and therefore owns 100 acres of
good building and orchard sites four miles
from the ferry.
Miller is Il blue eyed man with warm
brown hair, almost reddish in its tint,
and he can be affectionate and engaging
in his manner, and is a good deal admired
by n class of men above the newspaper
photographers and below the m~illionaires
He says he will never again move, but
expects to die on his lofty patch and nave
his bones among the stones
there. His historical passion was evil
denced from his having planted the flag
staff on a step upon his cabin, where, he
says, Fremont encamped at the time Of
his first exploration. | found him sitting
with his Bible turning the story of Christ
as a human man and brother into poetry,
if that can be done any better than the old
fellows did IL. He is one of the last poets
we possess who, after the manner Of
Thoreau, has given his maturer life to the
Cdll VI uIGdhlS III NGISts IL HuSU NOT
be forgotten, however, that he wrote two
very good plays, which nave been repre-
sented on both sides of the ocean, and
they made a fortune for Mckee Rankin
and one or two others.
II went to Washington" said Miller,
sincerely desiring to adapt myself to it,
and to love it, but they didn't agree with
me there; l found it was no place for mo
and l came back again to my W coast.
Instead of writing poems hereafter 1 shall
try to enjoy the raising of poetical houses
on my tract and to study nature and wait
for my time to molder away"
Mr. Miller married a few years ago Mrs.
Leland, of New York, an amiable and
charming young lady, and he expects to
bring her out here to his new possession
and have her superintend his affairs and
teach him the ways of practical life. Cor.
Cincinnati Enquirer.
A Taste for the Horrible.
IN